the sun is out but the slap you received
makes you dart about.
she is round about and makes a fuss
of how incapable you are
but you cannot hear but to wipe a tear.
chief’s pretty house lies afar
to see him to help you mark your time
from the remains of your shop
to the paper that would save your lot
so on your tattered sokoto, you set out.
how you long to be at peace and riches
elegance in style bears the name of your thoughts.
as chief’s pretty wife opens up the door
to let you take in the breath of wealth
something you wish to devour.
welcome! he says to you
tired lines spread across your eyes
it told of hardship and the things to come.
join me, it is a merry day
chief has set the dinner-cast it asunder.
the pretty wife pleaded
you set your hands to the meal
you could do to fill up a sac or two within
lest your wife does not fancy you to feed
just about the time, the door bell rings.
a white paper on her soft palms dancing beside her hips
after Chief ‘s orders: one person stands at the door
and long he was gone, you settle to your request
to get the papers for your shop and not be dismayed
was a welcomed idea gone too soon.
and while you were eating pepper soup
another man he gave the last paper out
leaving you to suffer in a sweat breakout.
because you let a moment pass to your belly
another damage has done you silly!
for you rest and you rust.
Whenever you are tired silly of working and trying to achieve, re visit your goals, and rise up to push through, You don’t rest when you are tired- you rust if you do, you rest when you are done! Never sleep through your break.
Do not give room for Cowardice
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